


cheers, darlin'

by kitmarlowed



Category: Charlie Bone Series | Children of the Red King - Jenny Nimmo
Genre: Gen, everyone is three years older than canon, let's call this an upper school au, year 9 - 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 15:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2233563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitmarlowed/pseuds/kitmarlowed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie Bone meets Manfred Bloor for the first time, in the Pets Café, just before his second year at Bloors Academy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cheers, darlin'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WildAndFreeHearts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildAndFreeHearts/gifts).



> Sorry if this isn't what you wanted, but an au where Manfred actually gets out and to university has been long in my mind so...

The first time Charlie Bone sees Manfred Bloor it’s the week before his second year of school, he’s in the Pets’ café, and he has no idea that the bloke who just walked in is Manfred Bloor until Billy shoves him and hisses it at him.

Manfred Bloor, Charlie decides, looks weird. But to a fifteen year old lots of people look weird and so he doesn’t think much more of it. Until Billy hisses again, “he’s the hypnotist,” and Charlie looks closer at the guy. “He doesn’t look that bad, Billy,” he says, even though the black hair pulled into a loose and rather windswept ponytail betrays the weirdness, and the black coat gives him the look of an undertaker not a student.

“I can’t really remember him that well,” Billy goes on, “it was two years ago I last saw him. Before he left for university.”

“What’s he studying?” Charlie asks, blowing his tea to cool it and trying to feign interest in Billy until the others get back.

“He was in Drama, so I think he’s doing something like that. Or Literature. I’m not really sure.” Billy gives Charlie an anxious smile. “Maybe you could ask him?”

Charlie rolls his eyes but thinks perhaps he should. It’d get him away from Billy and the younger boy’s chatter, and he could just go to the counter with the others and order.

“Alright,” he says, getting up. “Can I get you anything?”

“Fido’s getting me an orange juice, but thanks.”

Charlie shrugs, says again. “Alright.”

There’s no queue in the tiny café, and he isn’t sure how Manfred Bloor managed to get in until he sees a mean looking dog circle back to the counter to bump its side against Manfred’s legs before walking away again.

“Hi,” Charlie says, and Manfred looks at him. His eyes are black, fully. No colour. No change from iris to pupil. Charlie can’t really help the startled “oh.”

Manfred narrows his unnatural eyes and Charlie feels an awful tug somewhere behind his own. Is this what hypnotism feels like? he wonders, and Manfred smiles.

“Yes,” he answers, in a cold but clear voice. “You’re a Yewbeam, aren’t you? I saw Grizelda in your mind.”

“She’s my grandmother. I’m Charlie Bone.” He sticks a hand out and Manfred takes it.

“Hello Charlie Bone. Are you endowed?”

“Yes,” Charlie finds himself saying, even though he hadn’t wanted to admit it so easily. He tries to look away from Manfred’s eyes, to break whatever connection the other boy’s still using. He tries to read something in Manfred’s empty eyes.

It starts to work and Charlie can feel himself slipping free, and Manfred’s let go of his hand and is scowling at him. “Are you a nuisance to Bloors Academy, Charlie Bone?”

“No,” Charlie argues. Feeling better with Manfred out of his head. “I’m no trouble.” He’s lying of course. The box and the dog and the intrigue around Emilia Moon from last year, and the boa and Henry. “None at all.”

Manfred’s hand snakes over again, warm from his coffee cup, and clamps over Charlie’s. “Don’t believe you,” he says, in a sing song that’s too low and dark and quiet to be fun and Charlie snatches his hand away, says, “they aren’t wrong about you, Manfred Bloor.”

Manfred laughs. “I wouldn’t believe all you hear,” he says, then, “You’re the reason I no longer have a mother to come home to, I’m sure you’re very proud.”

“She was a prisoner in that place, just like Ollie was.”

“So you’ve freed three people from Bloors,” Manfred says, “by your reckoning, then. My mother, Ollie Sparks, and Emma Tolly.”

Charlie nods. “And if there’s anyone else prisoner I’ll free them too,” he says. “Now we know how to unhynotise people.”

“It’s not as easy as you think.” Manfred studies him before saying, “Ah, you think your father is still alive.”

Charlie narrows his eyes. “I know he is.”

Manfred shrugs, crumbling the uneaten biscuit on his saucer.  

“What are you even doing here?” Charlie asks.

Manfred shrugs again, draining the last of his drink and turning in his chair to face Charlie. “In this café or back in the north?”

“Either,” Charlie says, “both.”

“I’m in this café because I wanted a drink. I’m back north because I’ve elected to write my dissertation at home.”

Charlie, surprised by the honesty, smiles, says, “What’s your dissertation?”

“Magic in children’s literature.” Manfred pushes the cup away from him and stands, adds, “focus on early modern lit, not that you’re interested.”

“Sounds fun,” Charlie says, even though writing a lot about literature sounds like hell really.

Manfred gives him a look and says “see you around Charlie Bone,” and then he’s gone, the dog following at his heels.

Charlie isn’t really sure what just happened.

=

“Who’s that, Chaz?” Olivia asks and Emma grins, says, “Yeah Chaz, who was that? You seemed very into talking to him.”

Billy grins. “It’s Manfred Bloor,” he says, like it’s a conspiracy, a secret.

He get’s the reaction he clearly wants, though, a chorus of ‘wow’. Charlie doesn’t roll his eyes again, he has a headache blooming behind them. “He’s a git,” he says, one finger lazily massaging his temple. “back to write his dissertation. He blamed me for saving his mother.”

"Well,” Billy starts, “He didn’t get to say goodbye."

Fidelio scoffs. “And?,” he says, “He probably didn’t love her much.”

“Everyone loves their mother, Fido,” Emma chides. “Even Bloors.”

Charlie frowns, crumbling the biscuit that came with his tea. “It doesn’t make me a bad person, does it,” he says, “that I helped Mrs Bloor run away without so much as a goodbye?”

“She was miserable there,” Gabriel assures him. “We all did the right thing there.”

“I just don’t want to be the bad guy,” Charlie looks at them, his friends, their smiling faces, says, “I don’t want to be on their level.”

“You could never be on their level, Charlie,” says Billy. He hadn’t expected it from Billy, who relies on the Bloors for everything and is usually vague about any distaste for them. “I’m not stupid. I know they're horrible, but I have to hope that they’ll get me parents. So I’m nice to them, and I try not to cause trouble. Doesn’t mean I like them.”

Fido laughs, and Emma and Olivia soon join in. “Hear hear,” someone says. And Gabriel raises his teacup, says, “To causing trouble for the Bloors!”

Charlie’ll drink to that.

 

****  
  
  



End file.
